Charlotte's Web

We made the trek up to Mesa from Yuma so we could hang out with some favorite friends and see Charlotte's Web at Tempe Center For the Arts. It was so fun! I took Olivia and Abigail, and three of their friends. They all did great and really enjoyed the show.

Here's a GIF of us waiting and snapping some pictures before the show started.

 And here are some pictures I'm pretty were illegally taken. I thought they just said no flash photography, but after the show they said no pictures. So I'm not sure. I just needed to get a picture of the costumes! They did such a great job.

This is Wilbur, after he was fattened up! It's hard to see the details, but it was basically pink, patch work quilt overalls, with a curly pig tail, and a hat with pig ears.

Charlotte's costume was my favorite. It was this big tulle dress, with these sparkly dangling spider legs. Her hair and earrings and wig were all perfection.

Goose, and Sheep!

Templeton! This actor did so great. I loved watching him! I didn't get a good picture of his creepy tail. But it was creepy.

If you live in Mesa, definitely check it out!! It's playing through October 12th, I think. It was definitely worth the three hour trip (one way!). I probably enjoyed it more than the kids. And we had a great discussion on the way home about friendship and working together.  I asked the girls who the hero of the story was and all 5 girls exclaimed, "CHARLOTTE OF COURSE!" But then I asked, "Well what about Templeton? Didn't he have a good point when he said that if he hadn't gone to the dump for those words, Charlotte wouldn't have been able to write them, and they wouldn't have saved Wilbur's life?" And then they all said, "Oh yeah Templeton!" And anyway we went on and on about who the "real" hero was, and what makes someone a hero. It was fun to have such a discussion with a bunch of cute little people. 

While it was worth the trip, I think it will be a while before I travel for 6 hours with 4 kids by myself again. I am still exhausted!

A tale of two hearts.

I got to throw a baby shower for my friend Corina last weekend. It was a lot of fun, and "fed my soul", as my husband put it. This is what I looked like at Walmart buying shower stuff, and new pillows for my couch, because what better reason for throwing a shower than getting to spruce up your house a bit? 

Be glad this isn't a video, because this baby is LOUD.

Eliza got progressively angrier the longer we had to wait. And Abigail and Nathan were begging for candy and those stupid $5 little princess dolls, that no one would ever see unless they are 3 feet tall (like a child!). The lady in front of me gave me several "Can't you control your children?" looks, but I ignored it because sometimes I think it's just in my head. But I ended up taking Eliza out of the cart and holding her anyway so she would stop screaming. And then I heard the lady say to the cashier, "YOU must have the patience of a saint, dealing with people like this all day long." And literally sneered in my direction. Then speaking only to the cashier said something along the lines of being glad she never had any children, and grateful for her dogs.

Really, lady!? But actually when she first started saying, "patience of a saint" I thought she was saying something nice about me. I thought for a brief moment she was saying to the cashier, "Wow, look at that woman, she must have the patience of the saint, to love all of those children." And that would have been nice. Even if it was a slightly backhanded compliment. But then when I saw the way she looked at me, and the realized what she actually said it hurt. And I was so tired. And so I was literally blinking back tears. 

"What did you say about my Mama?" 

And then I got to experience a miracle that restored my faith in humanity. After I paid for my stuff, got everything loaded back in my cart, and was about to begin my dreaded Walk to the Car. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, walking from the check out line to your vehicle, but let me paint a picture for you. Imagine having three kids, two of them going in different directions, and one in your arms. Your cart has a gimp wheel and only pushes to the left. Steering it with one hand is almost impossible. But wrestling your infant back into the little seat is even more difficult. It's not my first rodeo, so I have already mastered the trick of pulling the cart from the front, while carrying the baby and threatening to leave the other children if they don't follow you right this minute. Then once you do make out of there, you have to remember where you parked your car. And now you try to keep two kids from being run over in a parking lot where no one values the lives of small children. Still pulling the cart, trying not to drop the sweaty baby, and constantly yelling, "Hold hands! This way!... I think this way!... Oh, right, that way." Meanwhile you are all melting because it's 108 degrees out.

That's my usual leaving a store scene. But not this day. Not this day where my motherhood was just insulted and I was exhausted and at this point just openly crying. I got two feet from the register when I saw a friend's husband from church, Roy Davis. I tried to smile and said, "Hi Roy!" And he said, "Hey there Sister Opie, you look like you could use some help." And at this point I would normally say, "No, I've got it." Because I'm prideful. But not that day. I gladly and quickly took Roy up on his offer. He pushed the cart, and I held the children's hands, and we were out of there in no time. While I was buckling up my kids, Roy was unloading all of my crap into the back of my very messy van. 

I drove away thinking of the dichotomy of those two experiences. Two different people saw a floundering mother in the same moment. One chose to be rude and make matters worse, while another saw an opportunity to serve. What an amazing example of trying to be like Christ. It was probably such a small act to Roy, and I know he didn't think anything of it because when he spoke to my husband later that day he mentioned seeing me at Wal-Mart, but didn't say anything about his service. I hope when I'm given the opportunity to complain or jump in and help I will always chose to jump in and help. 

Meet Skittles

Alternate titles for this post: "The Day Our Family Got Even Crazier", "The Cat I Saw In A Vision", "In Which I Discover, I Like Cats After All". 

See I've been kind of wanting a kitten, since, well every time I look at a picture of a kitten. But usually I tell myself no, because litter box. Enough said, am I right? And yet at night after the kids were in bed, I would randomly find myself searching the pets section of Craigslist. And on Saturday I saw this cute one. And I asked Aaron (for the millionth time) if we could get this kitten. He was like, "Fine." And I was like, "REALLY!?" And so I was texting this person, but then I got this feeling that I shouldn't go get the Craigslist kitten. I had the very distinct feeling that a kitten would come to me. So I trusted that feeling, and didn't go get Craigslist kitten. And then you'll never believe what happened next. At church the next day a friend asked if anyone give this kitten she found a home. It was super friendly and cute, but her husband is allergic. And so long story short, we now have a kitten. Named, Skittles. Or Meow Meow. Or Graya. Or Doughnuts. Depends on who you're talking to.

Ugga mugga!

So much cuteness.

They are learning to coexist.

Abigail is pouting because the kitten is on Olivia's lap.

Sleep, elusive sleep.

Eliza wakes up around 3:00AM every single day. She stopped for a while, and that was a glorious while... but for I don't know how many months now she's gone back to this 3:00AM wake up. I nurse her and she goes right back to sleep, but I'm not usually so lucky. It takes me an hour or so to get back to sleep, if I do at all. I've started several days the past few months at 3:00AM. It does not make me very happy. In fact I'm slowly losing my mind. So last night we came up with a plan. Aaron would go in and give her a bottle of formula at 11. She does go to bed early, her last feeding is usually around 6:30. So I don't blame her for being hungry at 3. That is 9 hours. So this plan sounded promising. Even if it only gave me another hour, starting my day at 4, as opposed to 3 is just much more doable. So all went according to plan. That is until the smoke detector of the devil decided its batteries needed to be changed at... guess what time. That's right. 3:00AM. On the flippety-flippin' dot. I could have cried. In fact I did cry. Until I laughed. And laughed. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal if it was one of the smoke detectors that was in a normal part of our house. But no, it was in our master bedroom that has vaulted ceilings, and the only way to reach it is with a ladder. So I had to wake up poor Aaron and he had the pleasure of also waking up at 3AM, going down to the garage and changing the batteries. As he was putting it back I'm pretty sure I heard him mumble, "I'd rather burn to death in a fire, than do that ever again."

Here's the ridiculous thing about that smoke detector, it has done this 3 times in the one year we have lived here! The first time was Aaron's very first night in this house. The next time was the only time in history my kids have every slept past 7:00AM. It is just an evil, evil defective smoke detector that we should destroy. (And then replace it, because I'm pretty sure Aaron didn't mean it about preferring to burn to death.)

So yes, another night where I was up at 3:00. And tossed and turned, until about 4:15. And guess what time Eliza woke up? 4:45. Then the rest of the crew was up at 6:30. And I'm just so tired.  I think that if my blog had a theme it would be that. Or traveling. Both common topics in my life. I just remind myself, someday I will sleep. It is crazy what sleep deprivation can do to one's mental health.

The latest.

This is my new favorite part of motherhood. Olivia draws and writes all the time. This is a poem she wrote for me.
She's still working on proper grammar. She read it to me like this, "We love you. Don't you forget it. So Dad loves you and I love you and we all love you!"
And that my friends, is what us we call a paycheck when you're a mom. It's those cute things that keep us going and doing this crazy job day after (never-ending) day.

Aaron had to work a lot this weekend, so I decided to take the kids up to Mesa. I didn't take many pictures but we stopped at Dateland because every single time we do the drive I want to stop to try their shakes, but we're usually just wanting to get there, or just wanting to get home. This time we weren't in any hurry and Nathan was crying because he was so thirsty, so we stopped. And I was disappointed. Apparently, I really don't like dates.

Coonskin cap, truck pajamas, and batman shoes. So much winning in this picture.

Even Olivia wasn't a fan, and she likes everything! She had a few sips, but then was done. 

What we can learn from Abigail...

Abigail is hands down the sweetest child on earth. Not sure if I'll be able to upload a video of her during our mommy school time, but it just was too sweet.

Here's exhibit #1...

They built this fort and then Abigail asked me, "Mom, how do you write 'EVERYBODY WELCOME'?"
She then put the sign on the front of her fort so everyone know they could come in. 

Exhibit #2...

She also drew this picture of my mom when she's old and in a wheelchair, and that's Abigail pushing her. Oh and she's holding a flower Abigail gave her.

 And exhibit #3, if it will work...

Sure love this sweet, sweet girl of mine.

Eliza 7 months.

This precious girl is 7 months old today. 

She has 3 teeth.

She's pretty easy going.

She's not the best sleeper.

She's not the worst sleeper.

There are few things she loves more than her siblings.

One of those things just might the dog.

The other is definitely milk.

And probably all food.

My heart just bursts when she nuzzles her head into my shoulder.

She really only does that on very rare occasions.

Her favorite books are ones with pictures of other babies.

When she sees the pictures of other babies she goes crazy. Feet kicking. Happy hyperventilating. Squeals of delight. It's adorable.

(Confession, I added that last fact so that anyone reading this blog will know that I read to my babies, and will think I'm a good mom, even though I have 4 kids. I really need to get over that!)

She does this cute army crawl, and she's getting fast every day.

She frequently ends up stuck under a chair.

She tries to mimic sounds.

She waves.

She brings us so much joy!

Sometimes I look around at my house and I go a little crazy. Today for example, I was trying to help Olivia with homework. She was frustrated because I told her she should number her sentences. Frustrated is probably the understatement of the century. It didn't say in the directions to number them, so why should she, yadda, yadda, yadda. Meanwhile, Abigail and Nathan were fighting over the computer and it was getting violent. Hair pulling. Pushing. The usual.

And during all of this the baby was just crawling around looking for choking hazards.

And just typing this is making my eye twitch. Literally.

This parenting business is no joke.